Evicted
by Oatmeal23
Summary: After a disappointing discussion and a drunken night, Cyril finds himself evicted from his apartment. Luckily, someone from work offers for Cyril to stay with them until he is back on his feet. Their friendship evolves into something more...
1. Chapter 1

Part 1

"Where the hell is he?"

Everyone stood outside of the agency, the doors locked as they waited for Cyril to show up, assuming that he would at all.

Malory had her arms crossed and her lips curled down in a frown. "We've been waiting for almost half an hour!"

"Oh, half an hour isn't so bad." Lana tried to reason, but she was growing bored of standing there herself.

"My offer of getting inside myself still stands." Krieger announced, then paused and reiterated. "Er- my offer of getting inside the _building_ myself still stands."

"No!" Malory snapped at him. "We know that your way of getting in would likely cause damage to the building that I don't care to pay for."

"But, you wouldn't have to pay for it?" Pam arced a brow. "You aren't the owner."

"Oh, shut up." Malory glared at her.

"There he is!" Ray said suddenly, pointing behind them.

Cyril had just appeared around the corner of the building and was hastily making his way towards them. His clothes looked to be put on sloppily and his hair was in disarray. "Sorry!" He adjusted his glasses and pushed through them, unlocking the door and going inside.

Everyone filed in after him, regrouping in the main room.

"What happened to you?" Archer looked Cyril up and down. "Not that I care, but you look like shit."

"Um..." Cyril looked away, tucking part of his shirt in.

"Ew. You smell like you've been drinking straight up nail polish remover." Cheryl waved her hand in front of her nose, as Cyril had been standing closest to her.

"Yeah, about that..." Cyril sighed and tried to straighten his improperly tied tie. "Don't worry about it..."

"I don't care what you've been doing, but I would like to know why you kept us all waiting outside!" Malory butted in.

"Okay, okay." Cyril rubbed the back of his neck. "Last night my landlord decided to evict me from my apartment. He didn't say when I should leave, but then he showed up really early this morning, telling me that I had better be out by noon. I obviously wouldn't be there all day to pack my things, so I stuffed all I could into my car and here I am."

"Evicted? Why?" Lana blinked in surprise.

"Based on the smell of booze wafting off of him, he probably did something stupid." Archer answered instead.

"The man just got evicted!" Ray furrowed his brow. "Could you not be a douche for two seconds?"

"He's right." Cyril ran his hand through his hair in embarrassment. "I got really drunk and was wandering the property, which the landlord found inappropriate. I shouldn't have done it; everyone in the complex thinks alcohol is like 'satan's nectar' or whatever."

They all gave him a weird look.

"The old lady in the apartment across from mine is really religious and that's what she called it." Cyril defended himself.

"Well...that sucks." Archer said, looking at Cyril for a second before he carried on to the break room. Lana rolled her eyes and followed Archer to scold him.

The others began to disperse as well, but some stayed behind.

"If you want, you can stay in my lab." Krieger offered. "Although you'd have to share the space with... something."

"No thanks Krieger." Cyril shook his head a bit, not even wanting to know what was in there.

As Krieger wandered away and Pam debated on speaking, but kept quiet, heading for the break room instead, Cyril grumbled to himself and walked towards his office.

"Cyril..."

Pausing, Cyril turned and faced Ray. "Yeah?"

"Well, I have room at my place if you need somewhere to stay." Ray made his way closer towards the man. "And I don't have any mystery creatures creeping around there. Just my cats, but they'll stay out of the way."

"I don't know." Cyril opened his office door and went inside, Ray following him. "I don't want to cause you any trouble. I can camp out in my car or the office until I find a new place."

"You're not going to live out of your car or the office." As Cyril sat down, Ray closed the door, then settled in a chair across from Cyril. "Now, tell me why you got so drunk. What happened? You never do that unless you're upset about something."

"How would you know?" Cyril questioned defensively.

"We've known each other for years, hun. Need I remind you of the night you almost lost all of the agency's money because you got blackout drunk and forgot the password you put it under?" Ray inquired.

"How did you know about-?"

"Pam told me."

With a sigh, Cyril took off his glasses and rubbed his face before putting them back on. "That figures."

"So what happened?" Ray repeated calmly.

Cyril could tell that Ray wasn't going to give up, so he obliged to tell him. "I had a visit from my father."

"Yikes." Ray crossed his legs and nodded a bit. "I can understand the horrors of that. What did he want?"

"He has his yearly visits because he thinks it makes him a good father." Cyril grumbled. "We talked about... my life a little bit, and, well, that was when his assessment of everything came in."

"So he's a controlling hardass?"

"Yeah, but he's also someone who is impossible to impress." Cyril added. "I don't think I've ever made him proud. Growing up, he was constantly disappointed in me. He was disappointed whether it was something I did or said or... sometimes I wondered if he could read my mind and be disappointed in my thoughts."

"That type." Ray sympathized. "I'm sorry. That can't be any fun."

"Not at all." Cyril pulled a drawer in his desk and brought out a bottle of scotch.

"Don't you think you had enough last night?" Ray ventured. "I can smell you from here..."

Staring at the bottle for a moment, Cyril sighed, and then put it back. "Okay..."

"Was there anything in particular that upset you when you talked to him?" Ray had to ask; if Cyril still wanted to drink, it must've been something bad.

"I..." Cyril hesitated, trailing off for a while before he shook his head. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Alright." Ray shrugged, slowly getting to his feet. "I won't pry it out of you now, but we're talking about it after work."

Before Cyril could protest, Ray had slipped out of the office, closing the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Following the car ahead of him, Cyril drove along the highway, elbowing his belongings that filled the car out of the way if they slid. After the blond man's persistent insisting the whole work day, Cyril had finally agreed to stay with Ray until he was back on his feet. Ray was driving ahead of him, and Cyril was relieved when they at last parked and he didn't have to fear an avalanche of his things anymore.

Getting out of the car, Cyril picked up one of the suitcases nearby. He didn't want to put everything in Ray's place just yet, as he was still a bit worn from his long previous night.

Ray waited for Cyril and they walked up to the entrance together.

Unlocking it, Ray pushed the door open and the men went in. Turning on the light and shutting the door as they both took off their shoes, Ray gestured to the space. "Tada! It's not a palace or anything, but I think it's alright."

"It's great. Thanks, Ray." Cyril offered a bit of a smile to his coworker. Cyril was honestly just glad that he didn't really have to sleep in his cramped vehicle.

Ray's apartment was quite nice actually, and was decorated in a way that was rather Japanese-inspired.

"This way." Ray led Cyril to one of the sliding doors, opening it to reveal a decently sized room. "Sorry that there isn't a proper bed in here, but..." He went to the small couch against the wall and moved the cushions, then pulled the hidden bar underneath. "It has a pullout bed."

"Don't apologize." Cyril set his suitcase aside. "It's nice that you're letting me stay here when no one else would."

"Well, I'm not a heartless bastard like some people." Ray beamed and tapped his finger on Cyril's nose gently. "I'll get you some blankets and pillows."

Cyril sat down on the bed. It wasn't particularly uncomfortable, but it did feel a bit springy. He exhaled a long breath and rubbed his arm self-consciously. He'd never really had to stay at someone's place for an extended amount of time before and hoped nothing went wrong. It was embarrassing to need to stay at someone's house, but what else could he do?

Ray came back, plopping the blankets and pillows on the bed. "Alrighty. Time for dinner then. Come on." He nodded for Cyril to follow.

Rising from the bed, Cyril followed Ray into the kitchen. "What're we having?"

"What do you want?" Ray asked, picking up the phone. "I just order dinner usually."

"Do you have something we can make here?" Cyril suggested.

"Uh...not that I can immediately think of..." Ray admitted. "I don't really cook..."

Allowing himself to smile, Cyril rounded the counter and took the phone from Ray's hand, hanging it up. "Well, I'm pretty good at cooking."

"Really?" Ray smiled in return with a raised brow. "You can search the kitchen then and see if you can whip something up, Hotshot."

"Sounds alright with me." Cyril looked through the pantry and the fridge, coming up with several ingredients. "It's not Friday, but I think I can make an exception."

"Stir fry?" Ray assumed, then looked at the meat and vegetables laid out on the counter. "Not a bad idea at all. I won't be completely useless; I'll help cut stuff up."

"Okay, but wash your hands first." Cyril replied.

"Yes, Chef." Ray teased and went to the sink to wash his hands.

Cyril chuckled to himself and got out a pan and some knives. He washed his hands when Ray was finished, and they both began to chop the ingredients.

It didn't take much small talk to pass by before Ray brought up the subject they were discussing at work. "So why did your dad upset you so much this time around?"

Cyril didn't answer, placing the rest of the meat he'd sliced into the awaiting pan, causing it to sizzle some more.

"It'll feel better if you talk about it." Ray tried to entice him into speaking as he chopped up a green pepper.

"Alright." Cyril agreed eventually, chopping up a yellow pepper. "Like I said before, he's disappointed in practically everything about me."

Ray listened silently, moving aside the neat piles of vegetables they'd finished cutting.

"When I was a kid, he tried to make me a 'manly man'. Always looming over my shoulder, making sure I did things how a proper boy should." Cyril stirred the meat as it began browning more. "It was important to him that I was the epitome of masculinity."

"I understand that." Ray rolled his eyes at the thought of his own childhood. "My dad was the same exact way."

"Even when I agreed and did the stupid masculine things, he was never happy about it!" Cyril curled his lip slightly. "Then there were the days when I became older. The constant pressure of getting a girlfriend."

"You're preaching to the choir." Ray nodded, wiping his hands on a washcloth.

"I can still hear him. 'Why don't you have a girlfriend, Cyril?' 'You do like girls, right Cyril?' 'Don't want anyone thinking you're a homosexual, Cyril.' Anything to try and make me date some girl; any girl."

"Yeah, the same went for me." Ray agreed. "Except the homosexual part was actually true..."

"You don't say?" Cyril gave a playful look to Ray, trying to push away the building emotions of thinking about his childhood.

"Shut up." Ray snorted good-humoredly and helped Cyril put the chopped vegetables into the pan.

Stirring and pouring in the sauce he made, Cyril continued while Ray began cooking bags of microwave rice. "It was a relief when I moved out. I didn't have to fixate on doing what my dad wanted anymore and I could try living how I wanted to live."

"Moving out is everyone's saving grace." Ray nodded, leaning against the counter as the rice cooked.

Cyril slowly stirred the contents of the pan, thinking back on his life. "Things weren't so bad when my mom was around, but after she died, everything was just...terrible."

Ray was silent as he crossed the kitchen. He went to Cyril's side and placed one hand on the man's shoulder, while his other hand patted him softly on the back. "I know it sucks to lose someone like that, but you find later in life that you're glad to have had them at all when you're in a world of assholes."

"Yeah." Cyril murmured quietly, leaning into Ray's touch in the slightest.

The microwave beeped seconds later, causing them to jump. Ray took it out and drained the water, dumping the rice in a glass bowl before setting it on the counter.

Cyril turned off the stove and took a seat with Ray next to him. They made up their plates and began to eat, satisfied with the pleasant flavors.

"You weren't lying." Ray said after finishing a bite. "You're a great cook."

"Thanks." Cyril triumphed at the praise. "And thanks for helping."

"Yeah, well I wasn't going to sit by and make you do it all yourself." Ray replied.

As they ate, they talked about topics from their families all to their personal lives. It was rather pleasant, because they could talk about anything and there was no one from work that could interrupt.

When the men finished and rinsed their dishes, putting away the left overs, they got ready for bed. Luckily, Ray had two bathrooms, although one was smaller than the other, but they at least didn't have to take turns.

"Goodnight, Ray." Cyril raised his hand in a slight wave as he stood halfway in and halfway out of the room he'd be staying in.

"Night, Cyril." Ray waved in return.

Cyril slid the door shut and went to the bed, spreading out the blankets and situating the pillows. Laying down, he stretched, took off his glasses, and began relaxing in the bed.

Not much time had passed of Cyril rolling from side to side, trying to fall asleep, when he heard something in the room with him. At first he shrugged it off, but he heard it again a few minutes later. Sitting up, Cyril squinted, peering into the dark.

In the corner of the room, he could see a figure moving around. Cyril snatched up his glasses. He certainly wasn't a child anymore, but there is always something horrifying about an unknown shape moving in the same dark room as you.

Keeping his cool, Cyril got up and went to the door, quietly sliding it open and allowing the dim light to shine in, dividing the shadows.

The light shone towards the corner, and Cyril was relieved to see a large, fluffy cat. "I don't think you're supposed to be in here."

The big cat looked at him and approached him when he spoke, purring and rubbing against his leg.

Cyril reached down and stroked the cat's broad head.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cyril saw more movement, and when he faced it entirely, he couldn't hold back a brief yelp of surprise.

In seconds, Ray came out of his room, flicking on the lights. "What? What's happening?"

Cyril was staring wide-eyed at a second cat. This cat had hair, but hardly, and it's eyes were like two, bright yellow full moons. "Your cat... startled me."

"Who? Miss Van Helsing?" Ray blinked, picking up the scary-looking cat. "I'm surprised she didn't attack you to be honest."

"Attack me?!" Cyril repeated in alarm.

"Yeah, she doesn't like strangers very much. Probably should've mentioned that." Ray admitted. "Thor seems to like you though."

The large hairy cat Cyril had been petting was still purring at his feet.

Although Thor was ugly, but a different sort of ugly than Van Helsing, Cyril still kind of felt the familiar warmth inside when you receive the attention of an adorable animal. "Yeah, I think he does."

"I'll get them both out of your room." Ray said after a moment. "Suppose I should've checked to make sure they were out of it in the first place."

"Do they sleep outside?" Cyril asked.

"No. They sleep wherever they want in the house." Ray answered, picking up Thor in his other arm. "But not tonight, the little monsters."

"Well, I wouldn't mind if Thor wanted to stay here." Cyril shrugged.

"Are you sure?" Ray turned his head a bit to the side. "He's a cuddler and he's practically a heater too."

"I'll take my chances." Cyril smiled, and allowed Ray to put the large, pale ginger cat into his arms.

"Alright. We've got our sleeping buddies then and I'll make sure Helsing stays in my room." Ray nodded, smiling as he saw Thor, quite content with being held by Cyril. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Cyril stepped out of the way as Ray closed the door.

Back in bed, Cyril laid down and removed his glasses once again, letting Thor situate himself, which ended up with him snuggling against Cyril's shoulder.

Cyril didn't mind, enjoying the warmth and the low, lulling sound of the cat's deep purr as he fell asleep.

Side note: my friend and I came up with what Ray's cats are called and what they look like.


	3. Chapter 3

The light of the sun entered through the window, cascading down on Cyril's skin in a pleasantly warm way. Shifting around, Cyril let his eyes open slowly, drowsily. His tiredness seemed to vanish when he found himself staring into the flat face of Thor, and he remembered where he was. Stretching, Cyril pet Thor on the head a bit and then got out of bed.

He didn't get dressed yet, as it was still early and they wouldn't need to head to the agency for a while. Cyril put on his glasses and left the room, Thor following him.

The house was silent. Ray's door remained closed and not a sound came from it.

Smiling to himself, Cyril assumed Ray was still sleeping, and decided he'd make breakfast for his host.

In the kitchen, Cyril was quick to start brewing coffee first. Thor watched him for a brief while before wandering off to a different part of the house.

There weren't a ton of different ingredients to choose from in Ray's kitchen, but Cyril luckily found a bag of pre-made pancake mix.

All he had to do was add milk, and then he was making pancakes at the stove soon after.

Eventually as the time passed and the pancakes cooked, he flipped the fourth pancake that'd been poured into the skillet. As he pressed the spatula down gently, Cyril heard Ray's door slide open.

Ray came walking into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes, his hair sticking up in different directions. He halted when he rounded the corner and saw Cyril. "You're making breakfast?"

"Yeah. Hope you don't mind." Cyril replied over his shoulder, then turned around to look at Ray. He chuckled a bit at the sight; Ray's hair was wild, yeah, but he was also in his boxers and had his shirt on backwards.

"You hope I don't mind?" Ray shook his head, laughing lightly. "I'm never up early enough to have breakfast... Thanks."

"It's no problem." Cyril shrugged, setting the spatula down. "You know your shirt is on backwards, right?"

Ray looked down, pulling at his collar to find that the tag was at the front. "Whoops." He tucked his arms in and turned the shirt, putting his arms back through. "All better."

"Well, if you think insane hair is better... That's your call." Cyril shrugged, eyes glowing mischievously.

"Your hair is all over the place too, mister." Ray replied mock-sternly.

Cyril was going to give a playful smartass response, but Ray had walked up and began fixing his hair.

Ray ran his fingers delicately over Cyril's hair, combing some of it into place. "That's a little better. You still look like a mess though."

Cyril hesitated, but began to lift his hand to fix Ray's hair in return. He was interrupted, however, when a smell met his nose and he whipped around. "Ah! The pancake!" He picked up the spatula and took the pancake out of the pan, putting it on the plate with the others. Luckily it had only just started to burn, and wasn't too bad. "Don't worry. I'll eat that one."

"Smooth." Ray smirked, walking over and pouring himself some coffee, as well as some for Cyril. "How do you take it?"

"What?" Cyril asked distractedly, quickly pouring the fifth pancake before he looked over to Ray. "Oh. Black. "

"Ew." Ray stuck his tongue out in distaste, preparing both of their mugs. He made a show of adding milk and sugar, nodding when he finished as though that was the proper way to drink coffee. He then set the black coffee on the counter next to Cyril.

"Thanks." Cyril nodded, rolling his eyes in amusement. He blew on the hot drink for a moment before taking a small sip. "Mm, that's what I look forward to every morning."

"I couldn't go through life without it. I always need a cup of coffee or tea in the morning so I can stay alive all day." Ray agreed, leaning against the counter, watching Cyril cook.

"Three pancakes each?" Cyril asked, placing the fifth finished pancake on the plate as he poured the sixth, using up the last of the batter he'd mixed.

"That sounds good to me." Ray agreed, setting down his coffee. "I have syrup and some whipped cream if you want it. I think that's about it though."

"That's okay. I only ever eat mine with syrup." Cyril answered.

"Really? What rock did you live under?" Ray blinked, fetching the syrup from the pantry and the cream from the fridge. "Well then you're going to try it with some whipped cream now."

"Okay." Cyril chuckled a bit, flipping the pancake. It was nice to have someone to make breakfast for and to enjoy it with.

Cyril took out the final pancake when it finished, putting three on two different plates.

Both men took one of the plates and went to the counter, where Ray had placed the silverware, syrup, and whipped cream.

"Put the syrup and whipped cream on every layer." Ray prompted as he began pouring syrup, looking almost strategic as he did so.

"I don't think I want to know how much sugar this is." Cyril shook his head, but went with it anyway, placing the whipped cream.

They swapped and added the syrup and whipped cream.

"Perfect." Ray nodded in approval, then cut into the pancakes.

Cyril did the same and they both began to eat.

"It's good." Cyril said around his mouthful when he realized Ray was waiting for a review.

"I think so." Ray agreed, taking another bite himself. "Pancake mornings were something to look forward to when I was growing up because it was a meal that you could change up yourself. You didn't have to have it like everyone else."

"I guess I never thought about it like that." Cyril shrugged.

"'Course you didn't. All you used was syrup." Ray pointed out, then poked at his plate with his fork. "I like strawberries on mine too sometimes. We're definitely going to go all out and get more toppings when we have pancakes again. For now whipped cream and syrup will do I _guess_. Maybe next time."

Cyril nodded, feeling a spark of happiness at the thought of eating breakfast with his coworker more in the future. This beat eating alone any day. "Maybe next time."

They finished up their pancakes and coffee, rinsing the dishes off in the sink.

"We should probably start getting ready to leave." Cyril pointed to the clock. "Wouldn't want to make everyone wait out on the sidewalk again."

"Oh, they're just a bunch of complainers. You being late isn't the worst thing that's ever happened." Ray waved his hand dismissively. "But yeah, we might as well get ready I guess."

They went to the separate bathrooms and showered, dressing and getting ready however else they needed in their usual morning routines. Both regrouped outside the bathrooms at practically the same time, and then they were in Ray's car, off to work.


	4. Chapter 4

"Wait, I had something for this..." Archer raised his hand to silence everyone as he thought about it. "Damn it, it's gone. But it had to do with you both being gay."

Ray rolled his eyes, smoking a cigarette as he stood in the break room with Archer and Pam. "Your genius is astonishing." The word had gotten out that Cyril was staying with Ray, because they both decided to simply carpool to work with each other in Ray's car, and Pam had seen them getting out of the same vehicle.

"I think it's nice that you're letting Cyril stay with you." Pam said, patting Ray's arm. "I would've let him stay with me, but...I didn't wanna."

"Words of a saint." Ray exhaled a long plume of smoke, then put the cigarette out in the tray. "Catch y'all later." He left the break room and paused for a moment. Maybe he'd go see what Cyril was up to.

Steering himself around the desks, Ray made his way towards Cyril's office. The door was open, so he went inside, but was sure to shut it behind him. He didn't feel like leaving it open, because Archer or someone else probably wouldn't pass up the opportunity to drop in with some stupid joke.

Cyril was at his desk, but looked up when the door had closed. "Oh, hey Ray. What's up?"

"Hey roomie." Ray replied simply, propping himself against Cyril's desk with his hand. "Not much. Just on my break. I figured I'd come here to get away from you-know-who."

"Archer's been dishing out jokes to you too, huh?" Cyril asked, leaning back a bit in his chair. "Not surprising, to say the least."

"Yeah, but when is he not being an ass?" Ray rolled his eyes.

Cyril smiled a bit and nodded to the chair beside Ray. "Why don't you sit and...hang out with me for a while?"

"Really?" Ray blinked, glancing to the clock. "My break is about over."

"So? Everyone out there wastes time every day." Cyril replied, then stumbled on his words. "Um, I mean, not that talking to you would be a waste of my time! I meant that-"

"I get what you mean." Ray said simply, taking a seat and crossing his legs. "So what're you up to?"

Cyril seemed relieved that Ray hadn't taken his words the wrong way, but he immediately seemed on edge again when Ray asked what he was doing. "Oh, just some...numbers things."

"Numbers things?" Ray repeated, clearly not buying it. He shamelessly looked at the small notebook Cyril seemed to have been scribbling in when he'd walked into the office. "Looks like you're writing a letter."

Cyril quickly swept the notebook away.

Ray just looked at Cyril expectantly.

Sighing, Cyril knew it was now entirely obvious that he wasn't doing "numbers things" or anything like that. "Alright... It's just that this whole mess of things has happened to me within the span of a couple of days, and I just needed some way to get it out."

"So you're writing in your diary?" Ray asked.

"No, it's not a 'diary'." Cyril answered defensively. "I just needed to write out my thoughts so I could look them over and think more about them."

"Yeah, so you're writing in your diary." Ray nodded, then leaned forward on Cyril's desk. He used his hands to prop his head up and gazed at Cyril cheekily. "You can tell me what you've written so far. I won't tell anyone else..."

Cyril furrowed his brow when Ray called it a diary again, but he didn't argue any further on the point. "Why would I read about my thoughts to you?"

"'Cause we're buddies." Ray beamed, making his fingers on one hand walk across the desk, then raised it to tap on the notebook. "And 'cause you trust me, don't you?"

Cyril didn't want to seem rude and it was true that he did feel like he was pretty good friends with Ray... "Yeah, okay." He agreed at last. "But you can't say anything to anyone else about it. Promise?"

"Cross my heart." Ray replied, tracing over his chest in an x gesture.

Cyril still looked uncertain, but he swallowed and cleared his throat before turning the page back and beginning. "Dad came over and had another one of his famous discussions with me." His voice trembled a bit, but grew stronger as he went.

Ray simply listened, watching as Cyril's eyes skimmed the book and his lips moved with each word.

"It was the typical disappointed talk. I told him I own the agency now, but it still didn't impress him. I tried to tell him we were doing well, but he didn't care to hear it. Then came..." Cyril trailed off, glancing up at Ray.

Ray nodded. "Keep going. I'm not going to make fun of you if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not that..." Cyril shifted in his seat, adjusting his glasses. "It's just that what I talked about...it's something I haven't told anyone before."

Certainly intrigued, Ray tried to keep a neutral expression all the same. "Well, I promised that I won't say anything, so it'll be between us."

Cyril was silent for a moment, but he sighed and picked up from where he'd left off reading. "Then came the usual discussion of my romantic life. Dad was not surprised to hear that I'm single, and as usual, he went off on his typical tangent. He said people must think I'm a loser and probably a virgin. He said he'd given up the thought of having grandchildren. He brought up the usual jab, saying people would think that I'm a homosexual."

Yet again, Cyril stopped. He cleared his throat once more and didn't look up at Ray, instead continuing. "For once, I retaliated against this jab. I questioned whether it would be so bad if I was gay. I told him that a close friend of mine is gay and that I see no problem with it. I told him..."

Ray was watching Cyril with wider eyes now, but he didn't try to interrupt with any words.

"I told him that I was tired of his repetitive hatred and continuous rants. I told him that maybe I a-am interested in m-men." Cyril fumbled a bit on his words, sounding rather nervous. "I spoke as if it were hypothetical, but I'm not sure if my dad took it that way or not, because he left soon after my retaliation. That is when my emotions were too much and I began to drink the night away; drinking myself directly into eviction."

With that, Cyril closed the book and shoved it into his inner pocket. Not knowing what to say, he slowly allowed himself to look at Ray.

Ray blinked, thinking a moment before he spoke. "Were you being hypothetical?"

"No." Cyril replied, surprising himself with his own instantaneous response. "I like women, but I kind of finally, fully admitted to myself that I... like men too." He kept his gaze fixed on his hands atop the desk.

"Cyril, that's okay." Ray was surprised by how humiliated Cyril looked. "It's not a big deal if you like both."

"It is if you had to hear from your father everyday how bad it is." Cyril responded.

"I did. I did hear how 'awful' being gay is from my dad _and_ mom almost constantly." Ray answered, shaking his head a bit. "But that didn't matter. In the end, I knew who I was, and I wasn't going to pretend I was someone else just to make everyone around me happy. Even if that meant I had to move away."

Cyril still looked miserable. "If I ever think about actually being with a man in that way, I just," He ran his hand through his his hair, pulling it a bit. "It's like I can just hear my dad telling me that I'm straight. That liking a guy would be wrong and weird and...weak."

Ray let Cyril breathe for a moment, then slowly reached across the desk and put his hand on top of Cyril's.

Cyril flinched, but he didn't pull away, gradually letting his gaze meet Ray's again. "I would feel bad if I didn't marry a woman and have kids with her. If I never did, then my dad wouldn't become a grandfather."

"So?" Ray rose a brow. "If you weren't aware, your dad is a jackass. You don't owe him anything after how he's treated you. Why would you feel bad about disappointing him?"

"I don't know." Cyril murmured. "His approval is just something I never got. I've always wanted him to be proud of me for something."

"Cyril, you can't please everyone." Ray tried to soothe him, brushing his finger back and forth over Cyril's hand. "Not everyone is going to be happy with how you live your life. There comes a point when nothing else matters and you simply have to make sure that you're happy with yourself."

His answer did not come immediately, but Cyril murmured. "Okay. I'll try."

Side note _: I don't even know how to respond to reviews or if I even can respond to reviews because I just joined this site. Anyway; those who like the story so far: Thanks!_


	5. Chapter 5

"That was a long, _long_ day." Cyril commented as he and Ray entered the apartment, kicking off their shoes.

"Don't they always feel like an eternity?" Ray replied, closing the door. He collapsed on the couch and patted the space beside him.

Taking the hint, Cyril took a seat beside Ray, stretching his legs out.

They had to listen to everyone's jokes about them living together all day, but they weren't offended; they were simply annoyed that the others were trying to make it seem like a bad thing of sorts. Work was over now, so they thankfully didn't have to worry about it again until the next working day.

"What should we do for dinner?" Ray asked eventually after they'd sat there for a bit in pleasant silence.

"Are you in the mood for anything in particular?" Cyril asked, brown gaze drifting towards the other man.

Ray shrugged. "If you don't feel like cooking, we could order takeout."

"I'll cook. No problem." Cyril assured Ray, sitting up straighter. "I'll see what ingredients we have to work with."

Getting up and searching through the kitchen, Cyril was surprised to find that Ray had hardly anything. The stir fry ingredients were a lucky break it seemed, because all Ray had now was: a can of tomato soup, over-ripe apples, outdated eggs, a bit more pancake mix, and the typical kitchen spices and toppings. "Well...I _would_ cook..." Cyril said eventually.

Leaning against the kitchen cupboard, Ray didn't look disappointed, but instead, amused. "Yeah, like I said, I don't cook, so I don't have much food in the house. We can go grocery shopping tomorrow though, if you want."

A sudden wave of relief swamped Cyril; they didn't have work the next day. "That sounds like a good idea."

Nodding, Ray picked up his phone. "I'll order something. You like Chinese?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." Cyril agreed. Just about anything sounded good now; he was in a better mood since Ray reminded him that tomorrow was free.

After calling in the order, they returned to the couch and Ray turned on the tv. On screen, it was playing a commercial about some allergy medication with the usual countless listed side effects. "What do you want to watch?"

Cyril shrugged. "I don't mind what we watch. You can choose whatever, honestly."

Going to the guide and flipping through the channels, Ray smirked and selected one. 'The Muppets Take Manhattan' came up, playing on the screen.

"The Muppets?" Cyril chuckled.

"I love The Muppets!" Ray pushed Cyril's arm softly with his foot, as he was lounged, partially laying on the couch at an angle. "You said we could watch whatever."

"It's not that. I like them too." Cyril admitted with a smile. "I just haven't watched them in years."

"Have you seen this one before?" Ray inquired.

Cyril thought for a moment, watching the movie as he did, then nodded. "Yeah. I actually had this one on tape."

"Lucky bastard." Ray replied. "The only tapes at my house were...well... not for kids."

"I assume I don't want to know the details?" Cyril asked.

"No. No you do not." Ray confirmed, dropping his feet to the floor and moving closer to Cyril. "Who's your favorite muppet?"

"I'm not really sure." Cyril went over the characters in his mind that he could best remember. "I had a lot of Fozzie and Kermit stuff when I was a kid though. Must've been one of them."

"Well I treasure the Muppets enough to the point that I remember my favorite." Ray replied teasingly.

"Oh?" Cyril grinned. "And who's your favorite then?"

"Miss Piggy, of course." Ray answered, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "She's stylish, she's proud, and she's one tough bitch. An icon, really."

Cyril chuckled. "Did you have a bunch of Miss Piggy stuff when you were a kid, then?"

"No. My parents didn't really approve of me watching them, but I was just so rebellious and watched the show and the movies anyway whenever I got the chance." Ray explained jokingly, then paused. "Although..."

"Although what?" Cyril blinked.

Ray turned to Cyril and reached out, patting the other man's chest. "This little diary you've got hidden in your pocket?"

Cyril didn't bother saying it wasn't a diary; he was curious about what Ray had to say. "Yeah?"

"I had a diary too when I was a kid, and it was covered in Miss Piggy." Ray explained triumphantly. "I took it from some girl I went to school with 'cause she was a mean little shit. I kept it hidden pretty good, but I found out somewhat recently that my dad burned it. I just pray to god he didn't read it."

Feeling Ray's hand leave his chest, Cyril replied when the man finished speaking. "I was too afraid to have a diary when I was a kid. I was convinced my dad would read it and talk about how disappointed he was with the things written in it. Then he'd confront me about it and I'd try to defend myself, but end up crying. Then he'd say that only girls cry and that I needed to toughen up and-" He cleared his throat. "Um. Anyway; what did you write in it?"

"Just about cute boys and stuff." Ray answered shamelessly, kind enough to not comment on Cyril's rant. "I'd write about which ones I'd date, which ones would kick my ass if given the chance, which ones _already_ kicked my ass. Just a bunch about boys."

"I get why you hope your dad didn't read it then." Cyril laughed lightly.

Ray was going to agree and talk further on the point, but someone knocked at the door. "Food's here." Ray hopped up from the couch.

"I'll get it." Cyril said, rising to his feet and digging in his pocket for his wallet.

"That's alright-" Ray began to object.

"I'll pay for it." Cyril insisted. "You're letting me stay here rent-free. It's the least I could do."

Ray gave in and Cyril answered the door.

Exchanging the money for the food, Cyril closed the door with his foot, his arms full.

"We can eat on the coffee table." Ray nodded to it.

Cyril placed everything down on the small table and they both dug in, selecting boxes and utensils.

As they ate and watched the movie, Cyril spoke. "I just remembered that I still haven't brought in all of my things from my car."

"That's another thing we can do tomorrow then." Ray shrugged. "Just as long as you've got what you need for the night, anyway."

Cyril nodded to confirm that he did, and continued to eat, watching the movie.

The characters began singing a catchy tune at one point, causing Ray to nod his head to the music. "This is one of my favorite muppets songs."

The characters sang:

"Look at me. Here I am. Right where I belong. I see that face coming back to me, like an old familiar song. What better place could anyone be? 'Cause you're here with me; it's all I've been looking for, and so much more. And now I'm here. Nothin' can go wrong, 'cause I am here right where I belong!"

Ray joined in with the characters with the song. "Look at us!" He nudged Cyril. "Here we are! Right where we belong!"

As Ray was fixating him with eyes that seemed to beg for him to join, Cyril gave in, surprised that he actually remembered the words.

"The curtains' up and the lights are bright, and they're playing our old song! What better place could anyone be? 'Cause you're here with me!" They finished together, laughing and poking fun at each other for being dorky enough to know the words to the song. "So here we go! Let's start the show!"

Eventually, after more sing-alongs and small talk, the movie was over, they'd eaten their fill, and the hour was late.

As the men put the left overs in the fridge, Cyril was humming the same tune they'd first sung.

"Catchy song, hm?" Ray teased, closing the fridge.

"I've got the damn thing stuck in my head!" Cyril admitted, not even fully realizing that he'd been humming it until Ray brought it up.

"Yeah, it's stuck in my head too." Ray replied, but he didn't seem unhappy about it.

Splitting ways, Ray and Cyril prepared themselves for bed. Cyril waited outside of his room so that he could say goodnight to Ray.

Ray exited his bathroom a few moments later. "Night Cyril. Good luck with trying to sleep while you have that song in your head."

"I was just forgetting about it, and now you reminded me of it!" Cyril complained, the tune making its way into his mind again.

"Whoops!" Ray smirked.

Cyril rolled his eyes and took a step into his room, Thor lumbering up and walking past him. Chuckling, Cyril looked at Ray. "Guess he'll be with me tonight again."

"Just close the door so that Miss Helsing won't get you in your sleep." Ray teased. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Cyril stepped all the way into his room and closed the door. He knew Ray was joking, but he was still secretly kind of afraid of Van Helsing.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Cyril awoke to find Thor actually laying on top of him. He didn't mean to wake the cat, but his slight movements caused the feline to blink awake, yawn, and hop off of him.

Sitting up, Cyril yawned as well and rubbed his eyes, then put on his glasses. When he exited the room, it was apparent that Ray was still asleep, as his door was closed.

Cyril was going to head for the kitchen, but Ray's door surprisingly opened.

Stepping out, squinting at the brighter lighting, Ray didn't look fully awake, but he smiled a bit. "Morning. I tried to get up at the same time as you." He ended his sentence with a yawn.

Seeing Ray yawn made Cyril yawn again and he chuckled. "Well your timing was perfect then. I just got up too."

Ray looked satisfied with himself, running his hand through his wild hair. "Seeing as we're both up, feel like going somewhere for breakfast? I know a place."

"Sure. Sounds good to me." Cyril agreed; he didn't mind cooking breakfast, in fact, he enjoyed doing it, but if Ray felt like going out to eat, he wouldn't say no.

Both men went into their rooms, switching also into the bathrooms to get ready for the day.

Showering quickly, Cyril stepped out, dried, clothed, and began fixing his hair. Narrowing his brow, Cyril flattened the pesky area of his hair that liked to stick up towards the back. Looking at himself for a moment more in the mirror, he decided he looked acceptable and left the bathroom.

Cyril didn't have to wait too long before Ray came out of his bathroom, ready for the day. Ray wore a simple t-shirt and some jeans. Admittedly, it felt kind of strange to see Ray dressed this way, and Cyril felt a bit out of place because he was wearing slacks and a button down long sleeve.

Ray seemed to notice that Cyril was sort of uncertain of himself, so he teased him a bit. "Getting all fancy for a day out on the town?"

"My more casual clothes are still in my car...if I managed to grab them from my apartment anyway. A lot of the time I do wear buttoned shirts normally though." Cyril adjusted his glasses and rolled his sleeves up halfway. "It's different to see you in such casual clothing."

Ray shrugged. "As long as I don't look like I was dragged through a thorn patch backwards like I do when I first get out of bed, then I'm good."

Cyril laughed lightly. "Oh, a little messy hair isn't so bad on you."

Ray's eyes seemed to gleam for a moment, but he didn't speak further on the compliment. "We should head for the café then. All the old people who got up at the asscrack of dawn are probably leaving now, so it won't be so crowded."

"Sounds good."

The men exited the apartment and got into Ray's car, soon heading down the road.

Cyril watched the buildings passing by for a while before sitting back normally again in the passenger's seat.

"Hey, Cyril." Ray murmured.

"Yeah?" He looked to the blond man expectantly.

Ray looked at Cyril a moment, not too long, since he was driving, but as he looked at him, he smirked and began humming 'Right Where I Belong'.

The song instantly began playing in Cyril's mind. "Damn it Ray! Again?"

Ray laughed at Cyril openly and looked rather satisfied with himself as they pulled into the parking lot of a nicely sized café.

Getting out of the car with Ray, Cyril tried to chase the song from his mind, but it wasn't too easy to do.

Once inside the café, it appeared that Ray was right. Many tables were empty, and as they were walking in, elderly people were walking out. "Perfect timing." Ray commented.

It was a simple café, so they were able to pick where they sat. Ray seemed to lead the way, and he sat with Cyril at a table by one of the wide, clear windows.

Cyril took his seat and looked around. The café was welcoming and decorated in a more vintage-like style. Records and antiques decorated the walls. He half expected to see hipsters standing around, but the only people now were employees and the last few old people.

An elderly waiter came over moments later with a notepad. "Hello, I'm Gary and I'll be your waiter. What can I get for you gentlemen to drink?"

As Cyril noticed Gary was speaking to him first, he looked up and couldn't help but notice the bright rainbow bracelet the waiter wore. He didn't say anything about it though, and answered, "Black coffee, please."

"I'd like coffee too, but with milk and sugar, please." Ray added.

"I'll be back with that. In the mean time, here are the menus and the newspaper." Gary set down the said items and walked back to the kitchen.

Cyril began looking at the menu. "What will you get?"

"Probably eggs and toast." Ray shrugged. "Maybe some bacon."

Shrugging as well to himself, Cyril decided that sounded nice. "Me too." He closed the menu and set it down, looking around the café.

He hadn't noticed before, but the remaining old people seemed to all be in couples. Cyril also noticed that each couple were people of the same gender. It clicked that this must be a popular place for gay couples to go.

Ray was watching Cyril casually from the corner of his eye, subconsciously tapping the table with his fingers silently.

Gary appeared from the kitchen again, carrying their coffee and setting it on their table. He left some sugar packets and a small pitcher of milk as well.

Ray told Gary what he and Cyril wanted to eat, then the elderly man was off to the kitchen once more.

Cyril picked up his coffee and blew on it, sending small amounts of steam into the air.

"You noticed, huh?" Ray asked, stirring the sugar in his coffee.

"Noticed? Noticed what?" Cyril replied, blowing a bit more on his drink.

"What kind of a café this is..." Ray responded, pouring a bit of milk into his mug.

"Yeah." Cyril sat up a bit more and gave a shrug to show Ray that he didn't care. "So?"

Ray's expression seemed to reflect with a look of relief. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay with it."

"I mean, I've never been to a place mainly for gay people before, but it's no different than any other café I've been to." Cyril took a sip of his coffee. "Except maybe it's better decorated."

"I'm glad you think so." Ray smiled and sipped his drink as well. "Although not all gay-based places are this...calm..."

Cyril didn't know exactly what to say to that, so simply nodded in what he hoped looked like causal acknowledgement, then looked around for a second. "I really do like the decorations." He added suddenly, not wanting there to be an awkward pause; he didn't want Ray to think being here made him uncomfortable or anything like that.

"Yeah, they're pretty nice." Ray agreed, stirring his drink even though it didn't exactly need any more stirring. "It's even better around the holidays; they go all out with adorable decor."

"I bet it's great." Cyril imagined the lights they'd have during the winter holidays, and looked out the window to see that the sills outside held beautiful colorful flowers.

Ray smiled cheerfully, following Cyril's gaze to the flowers just outside.

Nothing else was said for the moment, until Gary returned, putting their plates in front of them both. "Here you go, gentlemen."

"Thank you, sir." Ray nodded to the waiter.

"Thanks." Cyril added.

Gary smiled to them both, then went off to help another table.

They both began to eat. Ray placed his eggs on the toast, whilst Cyril kept the two separated.

"Don't like your food touching?" Ray asked mischievously after a moment.

"It's not that." Cyril shook his head. "I just feel like having some jelly." He selected the small jar from one of the trays Gary had left for them and spread some of the grape jelly on his toast.

Ray watched calmly as he ate his own meal, careful to not drip the yolk everywhere.

"There we go." Cyril looked satisfied with his toast and began to eat.

They both allowed a relaxed silence for the other to eat for a short while until they soon desired conversation. "Should we move you in or go shopping first?" Ray asked eventually.

Cyril shrugged. "I'm good with either. Although moving things into the apartment while it isn't too hot out might be better."

"Good point. We'll do that first then." Ray replied, wiping up the yolk from his plate with bits of toast.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," Gary said self-consciously as he stepped up beside their table to refill their coffee. "But it's so nice to see that a young gay couple can move in with each other so peacefully these days."

Ray's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to respond.

Cyril answered instead before Ray said anything. "Yeah. It sure is great to see how far society has grown in acceptance."

Gary beamed happily at them before wandering away to the other customers.

"You realize that he was talking as though you and I are a couple?" Ray blinked in surprise at Cyril.

"Yeah, I know." Cyril tried not to sound awkward and shrugged. "I just figured I wouldn't embarrass the poor old guy for getting it wrong."

Ray went to reply, but stopped and snickered. "You've got a little..."

Cyril was confused at first, but then realized that Ray was pointing to his cheek. Picking up his napkin, he tried to brush away whatever was on his face.

"Here, I'll get it." Ray picked up his napkin and wiped gently at the opposite side of Cyril's face. "There. You had a little jelly."

Feeling his face heat up, Cyril cleared his throat when Ray pulled away. "Oh. Thank you."

Gary came back and placed their check on the table. "No rush, boys, but here you go."

As Gary walked away, Cyril grabbed the check. "I got it."

Ray was going to argue, but recalled Cyril's statement last night about paying for their meals. "I'll get the tip then."

Cyril seemed satisfied with this. He took money out of his wallet, luckily having the right amount in bills, and placed it on top of the check.

Calculating the tip, Ray placed his own cash atop Cyril's money.

Finishing off their coffee, the men stood up and walked out of the café, waving to Gary as they went.


	7. Chapter 7

As they began carrying things from Cyril's car and into his room, Cyril kept telling Ray that he didn't have to help. "On second thought, I could do this later. You don't need to carry my things."

"We're roomies, so I'm helping you." Ray would insist each time Cyril tried to reason with Ray that he didn't have to help.

There weren't too many things that they had to move, but it took enough time apparently, because at one point, Cyril began murmuring the words to 'Right Where I Belong', seeming as though he didn't even realize he was doing it.

Ray noticed of course, and began murmuring the words to the song as well, smirking.

It took Cyril a moment, but he caught on and gave in. "Look at me. Here I am. Right where I belong!"

"It's a good song." Ray grinned.

"Yeah. It is." Cyril agreed at last, rolling his eyes.

Not long later, they'd finished moving Cyril in. There were a couple of boxes that remained packed with papers, documents, and such that sat against the wall of Cyril's room, but as for everything else, it was in place.

"Grocery shopping?" Ray asked as he stood next to Cyril, looking over the room they were now decently satisfied with.

"Sounds good to me." Cyril agreed.

Ray made sure Thor and Van Helsing had what they needed, then he and Cyril were off on the road again; this time with Cyril driving.

"What sorts of things do you want to get?" Cyril asked as they drove.

"You're the chef." Ray replied. "It depends on what you feel like cooking."

"Yeah, I know," Cyril turned at the light. "But I want to be able to cook things that you want to eat."

"I'm not too picky." Ray let his hand hang casually out the window. "We can figure it out as we go along."

The store wasn't too far away, so they were soon parked and walking through the parking lot, then the doors.

Rounding the first corner once inside, they found themselves alongside the fruits and vegetables. "We could get different vegetables for all kinds of things. Different stir fry, salads, soups..." Cyril listed a bit of possible options.

"Just as long as we don't have to eat brussel sprouts or turnips or something nasty like that, then I'm good. I just can't do those." Ray answered, gliding his finger along the cart that Cyril pushed.

"I don't blame you." Cyril laughed lightly, selecting some bell peppers and onions that seemed the best in quality apart from the others.

Continuing through the store, the men would both grab different items and ingredients that they thought sounded appetizing. Luckily, they seemed to have similar tastes in various meal ideas, so they wouldn't have to argue or eat the same things repeatedly.

"White rice...?" Cyril murmured, eyes flicking from the brown rice to the white rice. "...Or brown rice?"

"Duh. White rice." Ray answered, selecting a box of it and tossing it into the cart. "Brown rice isn't even that much healthier for you. Who are you trying to impress?"

Cyril rolled his eyes in amusement. "Alright, alright."

Ray's hand lightly gripped the cart as he walked out in front of it, looking at the different food items along the aisles.

Cyril had been pushing the cart, but he got a mischievous idea when he realized that Ray was pulling the cart at the front. As Ray was walking and oblivious, Cyril let go of the cart.

Ray took a mere step before the unexpected weight of the cart wrenched back in his hand. He spun around on his heel in confusion, and was soon grinning when he noticed what had happened. Looking at Cyril with narrowed eyes, he chuckled. "Ass."

Cyril laughed and put his hands back on the cart. "Be aware of what's going on within your surroundings, Gillette."

"I guess that would mean i need to watch my back? I thought I was in the company of a friend, Figgis?" Ray rose a playful brow as he stood on the end of the cart.

Making sure Ray had a grip on the cart first, Cyril began to push it down the aisle. It was heavier with Ray standing on it, but he managed fine.

"Cyril!" Ray whisper-yelled, although he was laughing. "You're going to get us kicked out!"

"You stood on the cart." Cyril teased. "Enjoy the ride."

Cyril didn't stop just so that Ray couldn't jump off. They rounded corners and went through different aisles, giggling with each other all the while like a couple of mischievous kids. There were occasions when other shoppers gave them weird looks, but Ray and Cyril didn't care.

Once in the dairy section, Cyril let Ray hop off of the cart at last.

"'Bout time." Ray landed neatly on his feet and walked around to stand at Cyril's side as they looked at the items upon the cold shelves. "If a worker saw us, they'd probably make us leave."

"Maybe," Cyril imagined for a moment being yelled at by a worker. Normally, this would be embarrassing and scary for him, but when he imagined it happening to him and Ray together, he instead found it funny and potential for a good story in the future. "But we could easily find another store. A better one."

"You better hope so." Ray replied, putting some butter in the cart. "'Cause this one accepts coupons even when they're a little late."

"You do couponing too?" Cyril felt a little relieved, as most people who found out about his coupons would make fun of him.

Ray blinked. "Do I coupon? No, but all the nice old ladies around here do. Granted, they probably think I'm a straight guy, but they'll give me some of their coupons to use sometimes."

"They think YOU are a straight guy?" Cyril snickered.

"Oh, I can play it straight, easy." Ray crossed his arms. "What were you saying earlier? That you coupon? I thought I was the gay one."

"Shut up." Cyril felt defensive for a split second, but it seemed to melt away instantly when he saw the fond look in Ray's eyes, and he laughed with him.

The two wandered through the store, cracking lame jokes with each other and gathering different items until it seemed as though they had all they needed.

Once they got in line and began putting things on the conveyer belt, Ray murmured. "I know what you said before, but you're not paying for all of this. Lets split the cost, fifty fifty."

Cyril knew Ray wouldn't back down so he agreed. "Alright. I guess that's how we'll do groceries, but I'll pay if we eat at restaurants."

"Deal." Ray nodded with a satisfied look upon his face.

The cashier didn't seem very talkative; it was a teenage boy who looked as though he didn't give a single shit about his job. Judging by his expression, he might not give a shit about anything. Despite this, he was bagging the items faster than a majority of the cashiers.

Ray and Cyril waited patiently, loading the cart back up with the items that had been bagged.

Soon after, the cashier announced the total in an absolute monotone voice.

Ray and Cyril placed their evenly distributed money forward and the cashier took it, giving them their change.

Splitting the change, Ray and Cyril grabbed the last bags, put them in the cart, said a farewell to the seemingly vacant cashier, and headed out of the store.


End file.
